Wake Up Call
by Hotcorner
Summary: Set early during Series 3. As Downton's future hangs in the balance, the Earl of Grantham wants to have a word with his son-in-law.


WAKE UP CALL

"Get up."

Matthew and Mary both jolted awake at the sound of Lord Grantham's booming voice in their bedroom.

"Papa," cried Mary. "What on earth-" She instinctively pulled her bed sheets higher to cover herself before her father.

"Not you. Him." Robert's commanding voice was firm as he grabbed Matthew's dressing gown and tossed it at the surprised newlywed. "Matthew, I said get up. Now."

Matthew tried to ignore his pounding heart and sat up as he found his voice. A million possibilities flooded his mind. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

"No," said Robert. "But it's about to." He fumbled roughly in the predawn glow in an effort to get some light in the room. The end was near, and another sleepless night had clarified things in Robert's mind and strengthened his resolve.

In better light, Mary's embarrassment at having her father see her in bed with her new husband was quickly replaced by overwhelming concern.

"Papa, what's going on?" demanded Mary. "Please. Tell us."

"I will tell you." He held up his hand. In it was the recently delivered paper acknowledging Matthew as Reggie Swire's heir. "Matthew is going to sign this paper. Tonight. Right now. And he _will_ save this estate."

"Robert," began Matthew gently. "I've told you—"

"I know what you've told me. You've had your say. Now I will have mine."

It certainly wasn't like the well-mannered Robert to steamroll anyone, but he would not be put off.

"Downton is in peril, and the fault is mine-this time. But it isn't the first time the Crawleys have been so tested in this house, and each time we have triumphed. Thirty years ago, my own father sat me down and told me we would lose Downton unless I married money, a lot of money; in particular an American heiress named Cora Levinson. I told him I'd rather not. He very politely said he didn't give a damn what I wanted. That of all the privileges to which I had been born, seeking my own happiness above the estate was not one that I was afforded. He flat out told me that my duty to the future of Downton and the preservation of our family trumped any petty personal preferences I may have."

Matthew sighed. "But surely even you know that those times are all but gone. You can't dictate—"

"I can and I will. Every generation sacrifices, Matthew. Many of yours left their sacrifice on the battlefields of France. I _am_ The Right Honourable Robert Crawley, 6th Earl of Grantham. Downton is my ancestral home, as it is yours. This place _will_ house my grandchildren. You _will_ be the 7th Earl, whether you like it or not. I've heard your claims of conscience, Matthew, and I respect your feelings. I do not, however, accept your willingness to destroy everything generations of Crawleys before you have sacrificed and built, just because you couldn't manage your feelings for two young women, or because you may have some lingering middle class resentment of aristocracy. I am sorry, sir, but you are planted in it, and with both feet."

"Yes, but…"

"I haven't finished. Scores of people depend on this estate for their employment and survival. The Crawleys serve them as much as we are served by them. I have treated you as a son from the moment you entered Downton, much to the dismay of members of my household—including, by the way, your wife. I've housed you and your mother, and welcomed you both to our home and our hearts. I've given you an extended family and I have given you the rare gift of my respect and my love. And now, my dear son, you _will_ return it. You lie there like a petulant ungrateful schoolboy with a future Countess at your side. You say you love her, but you have an obligation to Mary and the children she will bear you and you have no right to interfere with their collective destiny. Lavinia and Swire are dead. Your duty is to the living." He stopped for breath for the first time before continuing. His voice lowered, and signs of the familiar kindness returned. "Now get out of my daughter's bed and sign the bloody papers." Robert slapped the paper onto the nightstand beside Matthew and stood, pen in hand, waiting.

Matthew pulled himself from his bed with as much dignity as he could muster in front of his father-in-law. He nervously struggled with his robe as Robert's words echoed in his ears. Resistance, it seemed, was not an option. He swallowed hard and stole a glance at his wife.

Mary knew what it had taken for her father to make this demand on his new son-in-law. Her eyes glistened with renewed pride in her Papa. She resisted the urge to cheer. "You already know what I want, Matthew," she said.

Speechless and hopelessly cornered, Matthew took up the pen and signed.

Robert nodded and struggled to maintain his composure.

It was finished-his tragic mistake undone. Downton would be saved. Again.

Lord Grantham was not a man used to being indebted. "Thank you." The tears welling in his tired eyes conveyed the depth of his gratitude. He turned to go, but stopped at the door. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and strained, but a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "And you should know, thirty years ago I did the wrong thing for the right reason and came up aces. I did as my father asked and I pursued and married Cora for her money. I'm not proud of it. But I thank God every day for my wife, whom I certainly don't deserve but quickly came to love more than I ever thought possible. My father may have been desperate, but in the end he was right. I hope someday you will feel the same about me."

And with that, Robert Crawley, fortune-hunter and Sixth Earl of Grantham returned to the bed he shared with his beloved wife, while the Seventh Earl exhaled and did the same.


End file.
